Mirrors of the soul
by Jinxed Ink
Summary: What if eyes really were mirrors of the soul?   Light Yagami lives in such a world, and, when his eyes finally open, he is forced into hiding. When every ally turns out to be a foe, the only one he can truly trust is the misterious L. Wanrning: Light/L


**Before you go on reading, I have a few things to clear. **

**This is an alternate universe I created. In this universe, the color of one's eyes shows their main characteristics and their capacities. It also decides what's going to be their job.**

**For example, strategists have grey eyes, artists have violet eyes, fighters have red or reddish eyes and so on. **

**The eyes are covered by a white membrane that grows thinner and thinner till it's possible to cut it without risking to harm the eyes. This happens when the person is around eighteen years old.**

**Till then, youths and children use a seer, a device they use to get the shapes around them and their positions. It's very imprecise, but at least they don't go bumping into the walls.**

**When someone's eyes turn out to be gold or silver, they can try to become king or queen. They are put to the test, and if they pass they can take the role, until the next one with the right eye color passes. There are always one silver eyed and one golden eyed youth in the same generation. **

**Disclaimer: Death Note's**** characters aren't mine. The rest is. **

**Warning: There will be Light/L slash, blood and character death.**

"Here this is your room.", said Jeff, as he struggled with the lock. "Someone should come and fix the lock next week. Here." He pushed the door open, stepping aside to allow Imogene to get a view of her new office. She looked around, her gaze passing swiftly from the small wooden table to the chairs, restring briefly on the bare, gray walls.

"You are lucky.", Jeff commented. He was looking out the window. "You have a view on the old cherry."

She regarded the dark, ancient tree, it's branches shaking in the cold winter wind. "It must be beautiful, when in bloom.", she said coolly.

"It most certainly is. Yet I like it the most this way."

"Why?"

"It fights a war. A war against the cold, the weather and the odds. It's fierce, and I find fierceness endearing."

She smiled. "You have the soul of a poet, Jeff. What are you doing among the strategists?"

He sighed. "I don't know myself. I didn't get to choose my eye color."

She could just smile sadly in that moment, and think about just how much he was right. Maybe it would have been better if they did have a choice about their future. But she pushed those thoughts aside. The system worked, so why change it?

As time went by, Imogene eventually came to agree with Jeff. She came to love and admire the old cherry. It's pride and bravery.

She scolded herself for that, it was just a tree, not a living creature. She feared to be turning into Jeff. She told him, several times. But when she did, he just laughed, and kissed her, and said: "It'll take so much more for you to become me, Imogene. You're way too rational for that." And every time, she found herself agreeing.

Before she could notice, it was winter again, and he proposed to her, ignoring the cold and kneeling down in the snow, under the old cherry's branches. She had never been one for sudden decisions, but she didn't have any doubts about that particular answer.

Three days later, during a thunderstorm, the old cherry was stuck by lighting. It burned down. And Imogene locked herself up in the bathroom and cried. She sat on the floor, and she sobbed, and she yelled, cursing Jeff for turning her into an emotional, whimpering idiot. And she cursed herself for letting him. For thinking that, when it was so easy to destroy something ancient, something that had seen people like her come and go, just how frail was she? How frail was Jeff? Their love, strong as it may be would survive the thunderstorms? Would they?

She stayed locked into the bathroom almost all day, forcing herself to push those thoughts aside. They would take life as it came.

Three years later, they bought a new house, with a garden and a tall, proud cherry in it. Imogene loved it, she would spend hours of her free time sitting in it's shadow, reading. Sometimes, Jeff would sit by her, and hold her hand.

One of those times, she told him she was pregnant. They were happy, blissfully so.

But the thunderstorms had yet to come.

Months had gone by, and Imogene was running for dear life. She ignored the cold, the rain and the fright. The voices of her hunters, yelling and cursing and calling. The center of her world was the tiny form she held in her arms, her single thought was to get him in a safe place, and fast.

Her boots slid on the wet cemetery, her soaked bangs kept falling in front of her face. She fell, pain erupting at the back of her brain. Her ankle was burning, tiny, white sparks danced in front of her eyes.

She struggled, managing to get up despite the pain. She supported herself against the wall.

So that was the end. She couldn't go anywhere, she couldn't even walk, much less run. She gazed down at her son's face, their son's face, and wondered what would happen to him. Maybe he'd go into an orphanage. Maybe they'd just kill him. She wouldn't be too surprised. If he grew up and found out what had happened to his parents, he may become a danger. It would only be rational to eliminate him.

She couldn't let that happen. She took her mobile out of her pocket. The metal was cold against her hot, feverish skin. She dialed the number quickly, her mind spinning. She didn't hesitate as she pressed the green button. "Please, please, please, answer.", she muttered to herself.

A short pause. "Imogene? What…"

"Quillish! Please, I need a favor. They'll catch me. I have my son with me, I don't know what they'll do to him. Please, don't let them kill him. They trust you, you can influence them, I know you can. Please, take him in that orphanage of yours."

"Imogene? Who are they? What did you get yourself into?"

She ignored his question. "Please.", she whispered one lest time, before ending the call abruptly. She smashed her phone under her feet, several times, until she was sure no one could get information from it.

She sat down and waited for them to come and get her.

**So how was it? Cookies for reviewers, double portion if you guess who Jeff's and Imgene's son his. **


End file.
